The Path To Heaven
by Coachjoules
Summary: An Endless Journey Through Hell
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: Hey everyone, this is my first fanfic ever. I am hoping that you all enjoy what I have so far. I love the Claymore universe and hope that I can bring something good to what is already here. I really want to improve as a writer so I'm a little hesitant saying this but...please tell me what I'm doing wrong or what could be improved, what you like and what you don't. I really want to continue to improve. Oh and thanks to sandy000000004, Shades22, and Ironclad, for reading this so I don't make a fool of myself, you all are great and I am grateful for your input.**

Reunion Overdue

It was a beautiful yet tragic sight before Clare. The city of Robona was nestled in-between the rolling hills of the heartland of this island. A gentle breeze made waves across the grass covered hills as they swayed from its passing. It seemed like a dream more than a reality. The warm mid day sun illuminated the many limestone buildings of the city giving them their own light to shine with. The elegant stone architecture of the towering cathedrals gave a sense of hope to the villagers. The sound of the bells atop each tower rang out and seemed to carry tranquility with them as their melody traveled across the valley. Taking in the whole scene conjured a feeling of serenity; it was easy to lose yourself here in this paradise, it was easy to forget about the violence.

The high walls that surrounded the city stood up like sentries protecting her from any dangers that would inhabit the wilderness just beyond eyesight, but as Clare's eyes scanned across them she could see the scars of battle etched across their faces. Stone had been cut, wood had been splintered and craters riddle the ground. The streets were splattered with blood, bone, limbs and debris. Rooftops where Clare had jumped to and parried attacks now stood on the verge of collapse. The enemy showed no discretion in this battle. Guards, merchants, priests, women, and children lay strewn and mutilated around the entire center of the city. If she had been here any later there may not have been a city left to save.

The awakened being, Agatha struck without any warning or regard to her surroundings, but this is the way they are. Beings of no remorse or concept of humanity left in whatever occupies that deep void of their soul, if they had one to begin with. The sight was terrifying enough, but it was the sound that made the guards and claymore's alike drop their weapons and rush to aid anyone who was still alive. Their cries were many and as diverse as the people they belonged to. Some cries were choked and muffled by blood filling their lungs; others were high pitch and piercing.

Clare spotted a guard with his hands tightly wrapped another guard's neck lying on the ground and rushed over to help. His wound was fatal as blood erupted from his injury. A small piece of rubble had zipped right by him cutting his jugular.

"Simon, look at me," The guard said as his voice rattled. "You are going to be fine. Just keep your eyes open, okay." Clare could see on both of their faces that they knew the outcome here. The edge of Simon's hair turn crimson as the blood pooling around him soaked up into each strand. He slowly brought his hand up to his friend's hand squeezing it tightly as he used all his strength to stand himself up. But as he brought his shoulder blades off the ground the strength in him failed and he fell back on to the blood drenched stones.

His friend, his brother in arms kept squeezing his hands as Simon let out his last breath. He tried to say something but, only blood curdled wheezes escaped his mouth. Clare could see that anguish in his eyes as he continued to grip his fallen comrade's hand. It was heartbreaking to see him try to hold on to someone who was no longer there, no longer living.

A mixture of blood, sweat, and tears began to slowly collect and drop from his trembling head. Clare slowly extended her arms gently placing her hands over his. "Please, you have to let him go." She stated in an icy tone as the guard swayed back and forth still reeling from his lost brother. There was nothing more she could do as she carefully loosened his grip. Clare quickly untied her cape and gently placed it over Simon's body. The guard remained there on his knees continuing to stare at the body before him.

A familiar voice grabbed Clare's attention as she stood up to look for more survivors "This is the second time you have saved my life and this city." Galk said sternly, his face scarred and bloodied as he glared at Clare.

"I only wish we could have arrived sooner." She stated genuinely, feeling uneasy at Galk's accusing eyes.

"Just glad you could make it." Galk said as the slightest hint of a smile made itself visible across his face.

Clare exhaled a small breath of relief, she could never tell his intentions, but that thought was soon discarded. She soon found herself searching through endless piles of rubble. Clare continued to dig with the others, searching for survivors trapped under the chaos they had created. Each rock removed brought hope that she would finally see a face or an arm reaching out towards her for help. It rarely ended this way, she counted eight lives saved but saved too late. Their injuries were too deep and all Clare could do was make their passing easier by not letting them drift away alone.

It seemed that wherever she went she could only bring more destruction and suffering with her. Clare knew this wasn't true; she had stopped Agatha from completely wiping out Robona. She had saved lives, not only of the innocent but of the soldiers who stood their ground to meet their maker. Clare did everything she could have; she did her best, but as these thoughts ran through her mind it seemed like it wasn't enough. It was hard to accept that truth as she stared at the bodies and destruction around her.

* * *

He had been training and searching for more than six years now. Although Isley and Priscilla had left his company for more than nine months his resolve to find Clare was only honed even further. Even though Raki had insisted to stay along their side Isley demanded that they separate. He remembered that before they parted, Isley revealed one last truth. Isley wasn't leaving because he wanted to, he was holding Raki back. He was preventing him from reaching his goals, from fulfilling his ultimate purpose. He was stopping love, and through their journeying he realized he could not stall Raki any longer. He told him to search and find her, his purpose.

Every town he went to it was the same story. Someone would assure him of seeing some claymore that fit Clare's description and Raki would get his hopes up and tirelessly search the surrounding area only to find out that the claymore was not his Clare. It was even worse that all of the claymores he ran into had insisted that no single warrior survived that battle in the north.

The highway leading north out of Hamal saw little traffic as Raki made his way along the dirt path. It took nearly one day before the open plains started to give way to more trees. Shortly after that he had arrived at the foothills of the Western mountain ranges. The sun was beginning to fall below the horizon and he needed to rest but in order to gain ground he couldn't afford to camp for the night. _Just one more hour_, Raki thought as he continued to march upward along the shallow grade of the hills.

And then he heard it. It couldn't have been anyone else. If someone was going to travel this far out wearing full combat armor then they would have to be mounted. And since Raki couldn't hear the obvious clap of horseshoes and earth, it had to be a claymore. Only they had the immeasurable reserves of stamina to carry such a load on foot for so long.

Raki quickened his pace as he chased the repetitive clanging of armor bearing footsteps. It was that feeling again, it could be her. He had often thought about what the first thing he would say to Clare when they finally met. But now as he picked up the pace to an all out sprint, he had no idea of how he would react or what he would say. To be honest he wasn't even thinking at all as he ran with a full heart down the narrowing path.

Raki's heart was now pounding away but not from exhaustion, it was the anticipation that opened up his adrenal glands to full measure. Everything else around him began to fade away as he flung himself forward with each step. He was now literally trailblazing towards that metallic march, and then finally he saw her.

"I knew you were tracking me two days ago. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever catch up to me." The claymore continued to march, not even stopping to directly address Raki.

"Sorry," Raki's spirit dropped as the claymore in front of him was not her. "It's still difficult to keep pace with you'll with your endless stamina and all." Raki stated apologetically still catching his breath.

"What do you want, if you seek my life I assure you, you will be the one who is gravely mistaken." She stated sharply.

"Whoa, I uh don't mean you any harm or anything. I just wanted to ask you a question." Raki retreated carefully, knowing firsthand how dangerous a claymore could be.

She just kept walking on, paying him little attention. Out of frustration Raki quickened his pace and ended up right behind her. He suddenly stopped as her blade just suddenly appeared against his neck. Her motions were quick and almost undetectable.

"This isn't the first time I've had a blade to my throat. In fact, the last person to bring their sword against me is the one I'm looking for." Raki said fearlessly, he knew she could not slay a human unless they had new policy, but that was a risk he had to take.

"Don't tempt me human, I am capable of more than you know." She shot back with more threats.

"Really," Raki leaned forward allowing the sword to graze his windpipe. "Then slice. I won't stop you."

She growled lowly as she lowered her blade and knowing the only hope of getting away from this fool was to indulge him. "Who is it you are looking for?" She said shortly.

"Clare, number forty-seven." Raki recited.

"Dead, she fell in the defense of Pieta." She quickly recited back.

"I have been told so." Raki didn't lose his spirit; this wasn't the first time he had been dismissed.

"Then why do you ask?" The claymore's anger finally showed as she replied.

Raki paused shifting his gaze to the ground beneath him, seemingly staring at nothing. She was about to turn to leave before another question halted her. "What is your name and rank within the organization, have you ever fought an awakened being?"

She was little surprised by his question as she turned again to address him. "Alyssa, I am number forty-four within the organization. Now tell me why you know so much!" Alyssa quickly grabbed the hilt of her sword, and readied herself for a killing blow.

"Hey, calm down Alyssa, I told you I have spent time with Clare." Raki again retreated carefully taking a couple of steps back. "I will not accept that she is dead." Alyssa lowered her guard as Raki explained his intentions. "I have one last request," Alyssa sighed loudly as she continued to lose miles from her journey to her next assignment. "If I can land a single blow against you, you promise to try some of my new and hopefully improved lizard stew." Raki exclaimed happily. He knew claymores weren't the best audiences when it came to dining, but he needed someone's input on his cooking.

"I don't have time for games." Alyssa was fed up with his immaturity and turned back to her long march.

Something stopped her though, right in the middle of her tracks. The threat was obvious; she just turned her back on a possible combatant. She couldn't sense any Yoki, but the sound of what could have only been an enormous great sword alarmed her.

The massive sword's head thudded against the ground as it fell almost carelessly from its wielder. Alyssa quickly turned and brought her claymore to arms ready for a fight.

It was a strange sight. Raki slowly and deliberately walked towards Alyssa dragging the hefty blade across the ground. What was even stranger was that instead of twisting his wrist back and holding the sword right wise, Raki simply had his wrist neutral. The result was as if he was holding the blade like a dagger or small knife. With each step he brought the blade forward allowing his arm not to ever be fully extended. That was the giveaway, Alyssa could tell that he knew how use the weapon, but to the extent she was not sure. The scrapping sound of the sword across the ground was effective as he could see Alyssa was not going to hold back, she was genuinely concerned.

"No blood." Raki said quietly as he paused for only a second. He needed to strike first in order to turn the battle his way. If he could make this fight on his terms then he might have a chance. In one powerful swing he brought his arm up and to the right across his chest. His great sword quickly followed right behind his arm kicking up dirt in Alyssa's face. She reacted with a quick back flip, landing a couple of feet away from his initial upward swing. Her reaction was as Raki expected, but before she could regain her composure Raki struck again.

It was one fluid motion, one attack lead right into the other. From the upward swing he allowed the momentum of the sword to carry his body full circle through the air and land his next attack into an overhead cleave. It was very effective, switching from a low attack to a high, and left Alyssa no time to parry his attack. She quickly brought her claymore up to block his strike. The two swords crashed together right above her head, and neither one of them bounced or recoiled from the blow which further worried Alyssa. She quickly rolled to her left allowing Raki to follow through with his blow burying his blade into the earth. Alyssa took a second to focus as she recovered from her dodge. It was less time than she thought; in another powerful motion Raki swung the blade again sending clay and dust at his opponent. Alyssa was furious, she had had enough.

"Finally taking me seriously aren't you." Raki said as he saw her once silver eyes turn gold.

Now it was her turn, Alyssa quickly dashed to Raki's left and unprotected side and struck with unprecedented speed. Her blow landed squarely against his sword as he swung his body with the sword. It was becoming clearer to Alyssa of his technique. It was as if he was more or less flowing with the sword. He was moving not only his arm but his entire body and momentum to create attacks. It was very effective but only worked in short range.

Alyssa was again on the defensive as Raki started low again striking upwards. This time Alyssa blocked his attack by meeting his sword with her own downward strike, and with advantage of position she brought her sword down on his. The force behind her swing sent the blade to the ground burying a quarter of it in the dirt, well beyond his capability to simply pull it out.

"Yield." Alyssa demanded as she placed one boot on his weapon securing his disadvantage. Raki shot a hateful glare at her as he knew he had been squarely beaten. He released his grip on the blade and stood upright to his opponent.

"You have skill I'll give you that but…" Raki knew he couldn't fight honorably against a claymore so naturally he had to play dirty if you wanted to win. She honestly didn't see it coming, then again who would. But before Alyssa could rant on about her victory; Raki viscously struck her head with his own, bloodying his scalp and cracking her jaw in the process. In a daze she stepped back giving Raki his opening. He took three steps back and then jolted towards the hilt of his buried sword. Leaping through the air he gripped his sword at the crest of his forward flip. With every bit of upper body strength he had he pulled the blade free as he continued his downward travel coming full circle out of his sky high flip and into a devastating overhead cleave. He traveled through the air with his blade leading the way down to his opponent. It was perfect; he had spent months training his body and disciplining his skills at the great sword. Now it all paid off as he flew through the air about to land his crucial blow.

It was unknown to most the quality of craftsmanship that the claymore's wielded. No blacksmith could duplicate their alloys or even come close to replicating the shear resilience of that metal. All it took was time or the proper amount of force to crack any shield or sword brought against it. And that is exactly how it ended for Raki. His strike landed right against Alyssa's raised claymore slicing his blade in two.

They both stood there for moment each breathing heavy from exhaustion, both frozen in their last stance. Raki was holding only a fragment of what was left of sword, still gripping it as if ready to swing it again. Alyssa, now bloodied from Raki's cheap shot, still had her claymore raised in defense of his strike.

"If you come at me again I won't kill you, but I will leave you here broken and cut to die." Alyssa finally broke the silence as she returned to a state absent of inflection or emotion.

Raki slowly brought his shoulders up dropping his sword as he stoop upright. "I have no reason to kill you either," Raki panted still recovering from their spar. "But I won the bet." He stated cheerfully as he pointed to their head injuries.

* * *

The sun was now setting on the western horizon and there was still much more work to do. Miria and her seven ghosts, along with any soldiers that were able, began rotating in shifts during their rescue effort.

"How many do we still have unaccounted for?" Miria asked.

"It's difficult to say, but there are still families reporting missing children and siblings throughout the west side of Rabona." Vincent rubbed his high polished head as he tried to come up with a figure. "It could be as high as thirty or even as low as a dozen."

"We're losing time and it is going to be more dangerous searching for survivors in the dark. All the splintered wood and debris will make excellent kindle for a city wide fire." Deneve stated with a hint of concern.

"We can't just stop searching now, if we wait until dawn there may not be any more survivors left." Clare objected earnestly. She hated giving up, and the thought of abandoning these people to a grave of rubble was not an option.

"Deneve is right, if we continued to fumble around in the dark with torches a fire is sure to break out. We will have to wait until first light." Miria commanded sternly. "Clare, if you want to do more accompany father Vincent to the cathedral. The injured have been pooled there for treatment. I'm sure he could use your help."

It was good to see father Vincent again as they made their way north along the torn streets. Clare led Vincent to the cathedral making sure to point out any debris that he could harm himself on.

"It has been a long time since I asked for your help in dealing with the Yoma crisis." Vincent began as they continued to carefully maneuver through the darkened streets.

"Yes, it has been a long time, but not a distant memory."Clare assured.

"I thought he was going to be with you when you showed up earlier today." Vincent stated apologetically. "It must be five months now since he last came through town."

Clare's spirit rose as she felt as if she was closing in on finding Raki. It had been a hard time feigning death from the organization. Concealing her existence from them also meant exile from Raki as well. She just hoped he would understand when they finally did meet again. It was never a question of if they would. She had to push all those thoughts out every day.

"It hasn't been easy, I know he is a strong kid but I worry about him. It has been so long, I don't know if he is the same Raki anymore." Clare sidestepped past some debris as her tone plummeted. "I know I am not the same Clare…"

"I am not concerned for the safety of Raki more than I am of yours." Vincent stated as he ducked underneath a large wooden beam.

"And why would you say that?" Clare's curiosity peaked as she turned back to father Vincent.

"Well, because you rely too much upon your own strength or at least what you perceive as strength." Vincent continued.

"Father, I know you have a point, but if you are worried about me becoming awakened I can assure it will not happen." Clare stated with confidence.

"And that is the exact point I am arriving at. You are a claymore, a being of two worlds. Where do you think your greatest strength lies? Are you more powerful than these knights of Rabona because of your Yoma half?"Vincent placed his arm around her shoulder as he ushered her to continue their walk. "Yes, you are the most powerful of warriors I have ever seen. You are quick, lethal, strong, and you have an unstoppable will. But you claymores rely on that power from the Yoma too much. It is not that half that your strength comes from, it is your human half. Think it over, which half of you has proven to be more powerful during your battles. If it was your Yoma half you would have succumbed to it by now, but here you stand as human as ever. It is through the strength of the human soul that you are able to wield the power of the Yoma." Clare opened the heavy wooden doors to the cathedral allowing Vincent to proceed first. "And I know the depths of the human soul, trust me. I have seen the best and the worst of humanity and Raki is among the truest of souls. No, I don't believe for a second that there is any obstacle he cannot overcome or foe that could withstand him. He does not rely on his physical strength but the strength that lies dormant within us all. He can draw out that strength and evoke the best in us. I know you have experienced this first hand that night you almost lost your humanity right here in this very spot."

Clare's heart dropped as she looked at the floor beneath her. It was right here that everything changed; she could feel Raki wrapping his arms around her all over again. And at that moment she knew Vincent was right.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey everyone I am really excited about this chapter. I am really trying to see if I can create an effective atmosphere here. And thanks for all the reviews and input from the previous chapter. All your comments are really helpfully and I will try to get better and better with each entry. Thanks again! Oh and a side note real quick because I have been asked this by other readers: No, Raki is not going to be some overpowered super human, In fact you are going to see him fall pretty far. He is going to go through Hell.**

* * *

First steps: It's Getting Warm Here

Bad Dreams and Good Friends

It was still dark and the candles that adorned the cathedrals' high arching interior provided little light. It was difficult to see anything as Clare navigated her way through the gloomy place of worship. Something was out of place; she spotted a door that she had never seen before. It was a dark and aged wooden gate that stood partially open revealing a dull glow from inside. Clare's curiosity got the better of her and with little effort she was able to swing the doors open.

What she saw before her nearly brought her to her knees. Her breath was stolen and her mind unable to comprehend the scene before her. It was as if there was another main hall in the chapel that she suddenly found herself in.

The many rows of pews sat neatly in perfect order leading up to the candle lit pulpit. It was much the same as the rest of the cathedral. A soft and calming chorus slowly rose inside the chapel as if emanating from the walls themselves. Clare couldn't understand the words but their melody was uplifting and serene. And then they were all there, not paying her any attention. Clare thought about yelling their names but she couldn't get the words to form around her lips. The overwhelming shock paralyzed her with fear and bewilderment. They were sitting there almost lifeless like puppets or dolls, not looking at anything in particular.

It took a long moment of uncertainty but Clare finally took one step down the aisle towards the front of the chapel. Each step echoed throughout the large open cathedral, and with each step she looked to her left and right, examining those faces as she passed by. They were all more or less normal, eyes silver, hair lacking pigment, and faces void of emotion or expression. Some were sitting in groups next to one another; others were sitting alone by themselves. She examined each one as she slowly continued towards the pulpit but they all kept looking forward.

Clare spotted someone she did not recognize, the claymore sat off to the side at the very end of the pew away from everyone else. Her small frame and shoulders hung lower than most of the others as if the yoke she wore was heavier. It wasn't until Clare saw her face and emblem that she made the connection. It was captain Undine, and then it dawned on her that she wasn't different from the rest. Each one of them had at least one tragedy in their life. Most found solace in their comrades, but Undine made it clear that she leaned on no one. To see her like this evoked both joy and grief within Clare. Undine let go of her pride revealing her true self and now Clare knew that they were not much different, they each had troubles, but Undine never let anyone close to her.

Across the main aisle sat Veronica with Flora. Although she hadn't known most of her comrades that now surrounded her for very long, she felt a deep connection with each. They were all sisters in one capacity or another and as such they did care about each other's well-being.

It was that single long strand of braided hair that made Clare's skin crawl. What was she doing here? She had tried to kill her and for no other reason than for sport. Even now Clare slowed her pace and carefully proceeded by Ophelia. She was also alone, which Clare didn't find to be mysterious, but as she walked by she could see a sense of tranquility about her face. The madness and malice that Ophelia carried with her before was no longer present.

There were so many of them and Clare had spent the last seven years guarding each and every one of their graves and memories. But now they all were here Eliza, Lily, Queenie, Zelda, Emilia, Wendy, Pamela, Claudia, Natalie, Karla, Matilda, Juliana, and Diana. As Clare looked at each one she saw their snowy grave markers that she had watched over, matching their emblems with each face.

Then in the front row sat a single claymore, Clare didn't know her and her posture was different from the others, she leaned ever so slightly forward almost as if she was admiring someone. Clare traced her gaze to the front of the chapel and saw the two people that she owed so much to. Her soul nearly tore in half as she saw them, Teresa and Jean both standing on the platform before her. Clare was overcome with a tidal wave of emotions, she didn't know what to do, what to say. She hurried up the few steps stopping right in front of Teresa.

Teresa's eyes didn't move they just kept staring at something behind Clare. "Teresa? It's me Clare." She said joyfully. No response, She was still frozen, staring almost right through Clare. There were so many things she wanted to say to her, so many things that she wanted to share with Teresa. She was the only light in her dark world, she had given Clare so much, she had given her a reason to live. And now she was finally before her, but she couldn't reach her. Clare's spirit dropped as Teresa kept her statuesque form despite her every attempt to communicate to her.

"Jean?" Clare continued, shifting to her friend who paid the ultimate sacrifice for her. Nothing, she just stood like a sentry, unaware of Clare's presence. Clare had killed her; she had brought Clare back from turning into a monster, why wouldn't she say anything? She just stared right through Clare, her face nearly to the point of tears. It dawned on Clare that both Teresa and Jean were staring at the same thing, and whatever it was it lay directly behind her.

Clare slowly and fearfully turned around and saw all her comrades now bleeding and torn still remaining in their seats. They were not screaming, there were no sounds to be heard. It was as if they had been persevered in their final moments of death. Many of them had gashes and cuts covering their bodies. Limbs were missing, eyes were gouged out, lips were bloodied and whatever was left of them was chewed up beyond recognition. Their peaceful faces now replaced with agony and pain, it had turn into a sort of hell of twisted corpses.

Then she noticed it resting on the pulpit. It was easy to overlook given the macabre scene before her. It was a small casket, too small for any normal sized adult. Blood, both yoma and human, covered the box. Clare's heart rate sky rocketed as she laid her hands on the cold and blood splattered coffin. It took all the courage she had left to lift the coffin lid, her hands were shaking as she hoped it was not who she suspected it to be.

It didn't take more than a second to bring Clare to her knees. Her armor clanged as the strength in her legs gave way and crashed to the ground. Her body was shaking uncontrollably as her bloody hands covered her equally quivering lips. Tears began flowing down her face as she remembered this girl from a long time ago. She lay in the coffin as if she did not belong there. Her body looked as if full of life and her face as if unhindered by the cold grasp of the coffin. It was as if she was untouched by all the sadness around her, it couldn't reach her. The child's long brown hair lay gently along her shoulders as she rests eternally in that coffin. Eyes that Clare knew to be green were now closed forever.

"The greatest gift I can give to you." Those words echoed throughout the chapel. And without a second thought Clare knew what they meant.

"I wanted to avenge you!" Clare screamed out in unfiltered rage "I wanted to make those that took you from me to suffer!" Clare's body shuddered as she knew that she had squandered what Teresa ultimately wanted for her.

On that day Clare was meant to leave and never come back, she was supposed live a life without violence. She was never supposed to pick up a sword and start an endless cycle of death and remorse. She was never supposed to give herself to the organization and become something less than human. She was supposed to walk away from that damned hillside, she was supposed to live a life, but on that day she chose death and it has been showing its ugly face to her ever since. Teresa had taken that path and only wished that Clare wouldn't follow her through that hell. On that day Teresa was happier than any other day in her life, on that day they both shared a joy unlike any other and on that day everything they were supposed to be, died.

* * *

Raki could tell that his stew needed further development as Alyssa showed no approval. Of course it could be that she thought the entire contest was a waste of her time but Raki suppressed that line of thought rather quickly. It was well into the night as the two of them gathered near a fire they had quickly created.

"Sorry about your head, I know it wasn't an honorable way to fight, but I can't stand to lose. Something I learned from Clare." Raki explained apologetically.

"Well, I must admit I am surprised by you. You have showed me a side of humanity that I had forgotten about." Alyssa continued as she buried her claymore in the earth resting against it. "Every town that I visit I am feared and scorned like a sickness to be avoided. Many times I wonder why we protect you, if you are even worth saving. But then you come along and remind me that there is good in this land that comes without price or warrant."

"Oh, it's nothing really," Raki's head dropped as he continued to stare at the dance of the fire before him. "I just wanted to find my friend…besides, I'm sure you and I will have one hell of a headache here soon thanks to me." Raki shifted the conversation as he snapped out of his trance. "Hey Alyssa," Raki continued as he stood and gathered his gear, "I have to be going again. It's at least another two days until the next village and unfortunately our little spar has left me unarmed. The sooner I find a smith and get this repaired the better I'll feel."

"You wish to travel through this dense forest at night?" Alyssa asked with peaked curiosity.

"Yeah, my mentor taught me many things about survival, we trained to travel light and fast especially during the night. It won't be much longer till daybreak anyway so I figured I should head out. And is it just me or are you concerned about my safety?" Raki smiled as he joked.

"I wish you luck on your journey." Alyssa added lacking emotion.

Raki knew she meant well but it was always difficult to interpret words without inflection. He looked her in the eyes one last time smiling as he did. It wasn't returned in kind, but at least she didn't make any threats or obscene gestures.

Alyssa watched as Raki carefully gathered his belongings and began making his way north along the highway. Within a minute he was out of her eyesight and she was already shutting her eyes, quickly drifting asleep.

Raki was right, as Alyssa smelled the last plume of smoke extinguish from their small fire; bringing her out of her shallow sleep. It was only a couple hours of rest, but that was enough to keep her marching for the next three days until she reached her next assignment. She quickly donned her shoulder guards and gear and began heading north. Alyssa spotted Raki's tracks very easily as the morning dew kept them fresh on the soft dirt path. She didn't give it much thought and only hoped that she wouldn't run into him again at the next village.

This was her favorite time of the day. Dawn was full of life. Every bird in the sky began to let out their chorus of chirps and song. All manner of creatures hurried across the ground searching for food to start the day. It was life, in an otherwise world of perpetual death that she subjected herself to when she became a claymore. Nature contained its own cycle of life and death, but in Alyssa's world the Yoma brought an unnecessary pain to death. They brought something ugly into this world; they assumed they were at the top of the chain. It was her job to make sure they understood their place, to hide like prey when she came around.

She understood that everything on this Earth had its place except the Yoma. Every day of training since she was a child she remembered being drilled and drilled to despise these beings. Their existence was the presence of evil itself, their only purpose to cause pain and suffering to the innocent and as such they had to be completely eradicated. As a child in the organization she always heard stories of the Yoma's cruelty, how they enjoyed killing and eating humans. It was made very easy to hate them, and all the easier to gain a bloodlust to kill them.

Alyssa's thoughts were derailed as she smelled the embers of a dying a fire. It couldn't have been their own, not this far away from her camp sight. It wasn't difficult to see several tracks along the highway, their spacing and direction indicated a steady walking pace. As she continued another five minutes she then noticed the tracks became less organized. One set of tracks became elongated indicating a running pace. She then spotted new set of tracks coming from the woods directly to her left.

This wasn't the first time she had seen this. Bandits usually catch travelers off guard, but it seems whoever made these tracks spotted their ambush and made a run for it. Alyssa quickened her pace slightly as she heard the sounds of a struggle not far off.

The highway took a turn for the worse as Alyssa continued to quicken her pace even more. The footsteps stopped their run and turned into scraps and dashes. Drops of blood dotted the muddy road and signs of a fight spilled across the path.

And then there he was; a small child lay on the ground at the edge of the highway. Alyssa quickly ran to the boy, but it had been a while since there was any life in him. All of his blood spilled out of the large gash that now occupied his windpipe, he had been executed. Alyssa's eyes traced the trail of blood that spilled from his body to see another body. It was a bandit, bruises and cracked bones covered him. Someone had beat the hell out of him and left him here with just enough life to prolong a terrible death.

Another shout of a fight brought her investigation to halt as she continued towards the struggle still going on. With full speed Alyssa sprinted around a sharp corner in the path and saw a small caravan toppled over on its side. There was another mix of bodies next to the wagon, both travelers and bandits alike. It was a bloodbath of broken bodies and twisted corpses strewn about the highway before her.

"Damn you!" a weak voice screamed nearly gone from exhaustion.

Alyssa followed the voice around the wagon to see Raki completely soaked in sweat, blood, and fragments of brain. He was on his knees over one of the bandits beating him over and over again with a large rock. Clay and strands of grass mixed in his hair and mud covered his legs, he was almost unrecognizable.

"Why!?" Raki raised the stone high above his head as he continued to smash what was left of the bandit's skull into a pulpy red mass with each question, "What is wrong with you!? Why did you have to kill them!?" Each blow splashed more blood and brain matter across Raki's face as all the hate and frustration he had endured for the last seven years fell upon this unfortunate thief. "God damn it! Where are you! You promised me that we would see each other again! You told me it was going to be okay! Where are you?" Raki screamed and cursed at the top of his lungs. Finally his hands grew tired and the rock he once held bounced and rolled to his side.

Alyssa's hair stood on end as Raki slowly turned and stared right at her. His face, hair, and clothes were soaked in blood. The look upon him was both one of rage and confusion. He was angry at the bandits, unable to understand why they would kill for no reason. He was confused by it and he hated all of it, but there was only one solution Raki could come up with. There was only a single way he knew how to stop the senseless killing, but as he looked at the bandits and then at the travelers he couldn't see that any difference was made.

"I don't know…" Raki panted in exhaustion as Alyssa continued to stare at him and the carnage that surround them both. Tears began to stream down Raki's face as he shrugged his shoulders in disbelief of his own actions. "They wouldn't listen to me, I tried to stop them from hurting the others," Raki pointed at the bodies of the innocent travelers. "But they… they killed them anyway… I never wanted this!" Raki tried to rationalize to Alyssa who remained silent.

He slowly stood to his feet nearly falling back to the ground from exhaustion as he did. Raki took three clumsy steps before everything he had gave out and left him slumping against a tree. "You are lucky claymore." Raki stated as he wiped away his tears. "You get a formal invitation when you have to kill your own." Raki stated. "I knew this guy once, He was my older brother's best friend. Phillip, I think that was his name." Raki raised his eyes to the sky as he tried to recall. "We grew up together, of course they were a few years older than me, but we still got together just fine." Raki's madness was becoming more apparent as he chuckled lightly remembering his friend. "I don't know if I could do you what you do claymore…Is it hard?"

"Is what hard?" Alyssa shot back with a hint of disrespect.

"Killing your friends, is it hard?" Raki continued to pant from the battle. He breathed a low and joyful sigh as he continued to remember his friend. The young man Alyssa just meet not hours ago was long gone. Before her was someone else, a killer.

"I am sorry that this was forced upon you" Alyssa stated genuinely. "Killing someone is the worst thing that I have done with my life." She carefully pulled out a handful of black cards and showed them to Raki. "I am nowhere near the strongest warrior, and during my training I was weak." Alyssa's gaze lowered to the ground as she recalled all those who had helped her through the years. "Everyone tried to aid me in becoming a better warrior. Through my training I met and became friends with so many of my comrades." Raki's self-serving pity faded as he counted twelve emblems in his hands. "That friendship had a terrible price and now I have killed more of my sisters than I have Yoma and each time I receive one of these death notes I pray that hopefully my day will come sooner than theirs….I am tired of killing my own."

They both sat before each other in silence for a few moments, no words were exchanged, and in fact the only sound to be heard was the sharp crackle of the caravan burning just behind them. A small groan escaped the lips of the injured bandit not ten feet from Raki. Both Alyssa and Raki's eyes shot towards him as he continued to bellow in pain. Alyssa tried to stop Raki but she found herself speechless from his complete lack of mercy. Raki stood to his feet walking slowly and deliberately towards the injured thief. Without pause he placed his heavy boot on the bandit's throat and pressed down. It wasn't quick, Raki pressed his boot down harder and harder slowly choking the life out of his victim. The bandit's eyes welled up with tears as the last bit of oxygen left his body. His writhing and choking had nearly come to a halt as Raki lowly breathed "Goodbye Phillip."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey everyone I am so happy and grateful for all the reviews and input everyone has given me so far. You are all wonderful for helping me through this process of bettering myself and this collection of fiction we have here. I do have some great work ahead and there is a little foreshadowing that you might be able to pick up on with what happened in the previous chapters and this chapter. I know it has been a little longer since my last update and to be honest it may take even longer with my next chapter. I really apologize for that and I will give this story as much attention as I can. I am currently about to enter another transition in my life to my professional field, who knows one day I might fly one of you around if you choose a certain airline in the southern U.S. **

The Devil in Each of Us

The eastern horizon slowly gave way to the rising sun as a new day came forth. Its rays raced across the surface of the grassy flat lands and were only momentarily hindered by the low rolling hills that surrounded Rabona. Their warm glow finally met the eastern face of Rabona's elegant cathedral walls allowing the many stained glass windows to illuminate their beauty to anyone inside.

It had been as if Clare had been drowning for the last twenty years as she suddenly and violently erupted from her sleep with a deep gasp. Beads of sweat crowned her brow and slicked her hair. Out of instinct she sat up and quickly grabbed the hilt of her claymore ready for a fight. And then reality set in as she scanned her surroundings. She found herself right where she left off, resting against a pew facing the eastern windows, waiting for dawn.

"Christ Clare you scared the shit out of me!" Helen fired back equally loud at Clare's sudden fright. She was already on her feet with blade drawn and breathing heavy. "You okay?" She questioned genuinely. Nothing. "Clare?" Helen raised her voice.

"Uh…yeah, yeah I'm fine, just had a terrible nightmare." Clare replied quickly snapping out of her trance. Helen walked over anyway just to be sure. She lazily made her way directly in front of Clare and crashed to the floor, still fatigued from her rude and sudden awakening.

"Bad dreams huh?" Helen asked halfheartedly as she rubbed her face trying to wake her tired self-up. "Well, did you kick whoever's ass it was?"

"No, it wasn't like that" Clare responded plainly as her gaze shifted to the ground. It was apparent to Helen that whatever it was had really shook her.

"Hey, don't be all gloomy, it was just a dream. Sheesh if you're going to be like this I might as well get back to sleeping." Helen gestured sarcastically as she kicked her leg over to Clare's own trying to get a smile out of her dreariness.

"You're right, dreams are dreams and now we can get this rescue underway." Clare stated confidently as a small trace of happiness glowed around her eyes.

"Yep, it's about that time." Helen stated as she offered a hand to Clare, bringing her to her feet. They both dusted themselves off and quietly walked over to the front of the bright marble pulpit. It was a measure of both beauty and dreadfulness. It reminded Clare of the great halls within the many castles in each of the larger villages she had visited. Many times she was invited into these massive estates to meet with her clients. Simply walking in them conjured feelings of safety from their sheer and daunting size. But the low light seemed to steal away those feelings and replace them with dread and abandonment.

Miria was sitting on the steps leading up to the pulpit. "How long you been up captain?" Helen asked directing Miria's attention away from whatever she had been staring at.

"All night." Miria stated as she drew a deep breath bringing her posture upright. "We still have a lot of work ahead of us." She redirected her eyes addressing Clare. "I know each of you have things you would like to attend to, old faces to see again, but I need you to stay here for a while longer until the Rabona guard can finish the rescue effort and begin repairing this city." Both Helen and Clare nodded in acknowledgment. "Daylight is already here, wake the others. Clare, find commander Galk and organize our efforts with his men."

"This is going to be fun!" Helen grinned mischievously. Both Miria and Clare raised a curious eyebrow at Helen's over joyous reaction to waking up her comrades. Clare shook her head at Helen's immaturity as she turned towards the exit of the chapel passing by the rows of pews as she did. She didn't make it halfway to the old wooden gate before she heard Helen wake Tabitha out of her sleep. She just shoved Tabitha right off the pew letting her fall to the ground. Of course midway through her free fall her eyes went just as wide as her mouth, screaming as she accelerated to the ground.

"Damn it Helen, what is wrong with you!" Tabitha raged as she rubbed her injured shoulder from the fall. Helen enjoyed her pranks maybe a little too much. She was laughing so hard she could hardly stand. A pause and then a well earned sigh escaped her lips. "Who's next?" she asked herself deviously and then she saw her and relished the thought. She had always loved every instance she could get the better Deneve. She was her polar opposite, and now she had a chance to get at her.

Helen slowly and cautiously scooted next to Deneve who also sat asleep with her back upright, not too dissimilar from sleeping against their claymores. Helen could barely contain her excitement as she continued ever closer to Deneve. Almost there, just a couple more seconds and she would shove her off her seat scaring her out of her dream. Helen's arm slowly crept its way just inches from Deneve's back. She had her now, there was nothing that could make this moment more perfect as she reared her hand back ready to give Deneve her wake up call. Deneve's eyes closed, her breathing light and controlled as she slumbered. Helen's hand was now flying through the air racing to its target.

"I think I'll go help Clare." Deneve stated plainly as she quickly rose to her feet and side stepped Helen's slap. Helen's joyous expression tanked as she saw a faint smile etch across Deneve's face. It was adding insult to what was now going to be injury as Helen's hand traveled through the air and smacked against the back of the pew in front of her. Deneve didn't even open her eyes as she stood and parried her rival's prank.

"Son of a bitch!" Helen screamed in pain as her hand throbbed from the impact.

Clare had just placed her hand against the door as she turned around to see Helen's prank backfire. Whether Helen intended it or not she had given Clare and everyone else a break from the turmoil around them. It was a momentary relief to laugh again and completely necessary at that. But all that joy came to violent halt as that dream flashed before Clare again. Her heart rate became erratic as she looked at the scene before her. The already dim light in the cathedral grew darker and that same cold feeling of dread enveloped her as all her friends were now sitting in the exact same positions as those that fell in Pieta. Five of them, all sitting in the pews and Miria on the pulpit. Flashes of the dream cropped up in her mind, all their torn faces and pain were as real and terrifying as ever.

Clare's legs became weak, she had to get out of there now. With what little strength remained in her she quickly shoved the door open and was relieved by fresh air and the morning sun. She drew a deep breath and felt the strength within in her returning slowly and steadily.

"Clare, are you alright?" a voice came from the bottom of the steps leading up to the cathedral. Clare recognized who it belonged to but as her eyes looked towards the speaker something inside of her shattered.

It was him, how could he be here? What….what happened? Before Clare was a blood covered murderer. Malice wrapped his thoughts and hate filled his eyes as he stared at her. His hair was slick and stained with blood, his jaw tight and closed with anger. His hands were balled into fist and covered in dried crusted blood. Clare stood in absolute fear before him, not afraid of him but for him, for what he had become. This was not who she remembered, this is not what she is fighting for. Clare's heart sank with her knees as she fell to the ground.

"YOU PROMISED ME!" Raki roared nearly deafening Clare. The immense volume shook her entire body making her head and stomach swim. The pain made her choke and gag as she sat there helpless on her knees. A searing pain traveled up her spine and slammed into the back of her skull. It was as if someone had placed a scorching hot brand against her brain. Clare quickly wrapped her hands around her head and yelled in pain as the plate burned even hotter against her cooking flesh. Her vision was beginning to fade and her mouth and throat became barren and dry. All their accusing voices replayed through her mind like a broken record. Each one of those faces, each person those grave markers belong to spat in her face with blame of their death.

Clare looked up and suddenly Raki was gone and replaced by Father Vincent. He quickly ascended the steps to aid her. Clare began to choke and cough violently. She could feel the warm blood splash against her tongue and teeth before it splattered against her glove covered hands. Something was different though, her blood appeared darker as if it had a greater mix of purple within it.

"Clare!" Father Vincent exclaimed as he kneeled down next to her trying to support her. He looked through the open cathedral gate and saw her friends gathered inside. "Someone help!" He yelled arresting the attention of everyone inside the church.

Clare was still violently coughing as Deneve was the first to arrive to her aid. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure, she just started coughing up her blood just as she walked out. Dear lord…" Vincent's face looked as if death itself had taken his soul. "…Her eyes."

Deneve quickly grabbed Vincent and violently shoved him away from Clare. Chills ran down her body as she saw Clare's eyes change to gold. "Clare what's going on," Clare couldn't get a word out edge wise as she continued to hack up blood. "Miria! Get over here now!" Deneve barked.

Within a second she was there and realized what was happening. "Damn it!" Miria cursed, "She is losing control, Deneve get back!" Just as the words reached Deneve's ears Clare's Yoki erupted. The immense force slammed both Miria and Deneve against the cathedral walls making small impact craters as they crashed.

Clare was now screaming in pure rage as her Yoki went out of control. Blinding light shot in every direction around her and accelerated skyward to the heavens like a beacon to everyone on the island. The air hissed and sizzled from the heat emitting from her and the ground began to cook as her body gave into its other half.

"Clare!" Yuma yelled as she rushed in front of friend trying to save her from herself. "Clare you have to fight it!" It was a duel of will more or less. Both Clare and Yuma were on their knees in front of each other both fighting for control. "Clare, look at me! Look at what you are doing!" Yuma screamed as loud as she could as gale force winds swirled around them.

Nothing was happening. Clare's bones and joints cracked and contorted as her human form began to deteriorate. Sharp metallic tendrils erupted from her sides and snaked around her body as that same form from seven years ago began to take shape.

"Get away from me Yuma!" Clare growled. She ignored the obvious threat in front of her and began to sync her yoki with Clare's trying to reverse her transformation. But her focus was derailed as a sharp pain erupted from her left side. One of Clare's tendrils from her right arm dug into her left side. The sting from her injury became nearly unbearable as Clare's tendril dug further, twisting with every millimeter of flesh it carved.

"Clare!" Yuma screamed with all that was within her as she took both hands and firmly grabbed Clare's head. Yuma put everything she had into her, tears began to flow from her eyes and blood spilled from her lips. She struggled to bring her back to the other side, but it wasn't working, it was almost as if Clare didn't want to return, she was content with being buried in her anger and hate.

The intense pain and anguish pushed Yuma's body on the verge of collapse. She had reached her limit both mentally and physically. In a violent release she spat and coughed up all the blood that had begun to fill her lungs from the stabbing wound in her side. The red life-filled fluid splashed against Clare's golden eyes and jagged jaw line.

All Clare could see in her fractured mind were those faces. Each one taking a tear at her soul. She saw her friends and the ones she loved, she looked upon their faces and saw the torment wrecking their spirits as well. Clare tried to reach out and touch them but as she extended her arms all her eyes could see were those claws that belonged to her awakened side.

Her anger violently propelled upwards when they appeared though. Everyone she blamed for all the hurt and agony that she had been unfairly subjected to. Every piece of worthless, shitty excuse for a human being that she had been endlessly harassed and berated by within the organization spewed forth inside her head. They took everything from her, and now as she looks right in front of her at this dying friend, Clare sees what they make you give.

Then something deep in the reaches of Clare's mind sparked. The warm blood that now trickles down her face is strangely familiar. It had happened before, blood covered, speechless, and afraid. Where was it? Clare thought as she continued to struggle with her memories. It was nearly impossible to pull up all those forgotten images from long ago, but all they needed was the right catalyst.

It was that day she had been freed, she stood in the middle of the village. Everyone stood horrified as the people around them showed their true colors and took their Yoma form. And the last one to fall left Clare drenched with its blood, slowly trickling down her face. That's when she saw her and her faint smile.

* * *

Raki sat there slumped against the tree. He wasn't sure how long it had been since Alyssa had continued her march to her next assignment, and he didn't much care. All he knew is that she had left long enough ago for the flies and birds of the sky to take notice of the bodies around him. It wouldn't be long until the mid-day sun started to make the bodies stink as well.

He couldn't stand being around them any longer and with little regret he stood to his feet ready to leave. As he looked around at the bodies and caravan he spotted a small pond not far from the slain child. Raki carefully maneuvered around the corpses being sure not to stand on any of them as he made his way to the water.

It was completely still and glassy as he kneeled before the water. Raki's hands began to tremble as he looked at the other man in the reflection below him. Disbelief filled his soul as his hands searched his face only to confirm that it was indeed himself that he was looking at. The loud squawk of a nearby raven alerted Raki. He quickly looked left and right for anyone else who may have happened upon this massacre around him. His search yielded no results and comfortable that he was alone he dipped his hands in the pool washing his face of blood.

Raki let out a deep sigh as his eyes searched the skies above him. He swung his head low and rotated it letting it pop and crack. But as he looked down at the dying ripples in the pond he saw him. He saw that kid from seven years ago staring right back at him. Fear wrenched and torqued raki's heart as he looked silently as this child he once knew.

"Who are you, and where is Raki!?" the little boy asked accusingly.

"I…I don't know…" Raki replied. He saw that young boy he used to be looking at him with disgust, like some stranger who only meant him harm.

"Where is Clare, What have you done to her!?" The kid was now furious as he glared back at Raki.

"Christ! I don't know! I told you that already!" Raki screamed back.

He remembered her, every detail of Clare still imprinted in his mind. Above all else he could recall her voice. She said few words during their short time together but Raki held each one close, playing them over and over again in his head. Her last words were like a double edge blade, acting as a source of hope that they would see each other again and a fear that they day may not happen in this life.

A single tear dropped from his cheek onto the boy below as Raki remembered his dear friend. The small drop splashed against the water bringing Raki's gaze back to the kid looking back at him. "I will find her." Raki assured himself, "If I have to tear apart this entire God damn island I will." His confidence quickly evaporated as blood began to fill the small pond. The bandit's blood next to him had finally crept its way to the pond slowly trickling in. The blood washed over his reflection and with it the young boy disappeared leaving only a bloodied and hate filled killer "And kill anyone who tries to stop me from getting to you."

The familiar sound of metallic marching quickly brought Raki to his feet. Another Claymore was nearby making her way along the highway. Raki stood cautiously behind a tree and waited for her to get closer. He could hear another set of steps in stride with the Claymore's. Raki quickly calculated their distance and slowly walked out on the bloodied highway raising his hands in the air as he did. It gave them enough time a distance to clearly see him on their approach.

He could see the two of them as they rounded the bend in the road. One claymore walking slightly behind another man. His body and face were cloaked revealing only his eyes. The sight of the massacre around them did not alarm either of them as they continued to near Raki, this made him uneasy.

"Please I need help, I mean you no harm." Raki called out as they walked closer. Both of their eyes shot at his own almost as if examining him.

"What happened here?" The cloaked man asked pointing to the bodies around them.

"Bandits attacked this group and I intervened, all too late though." Raki stated disappointedly.

"And how do we know you are not a bandit yourself?" The claymore asked grabbing the hilt of her blade.

"Why would I stay here like this if I was trying to steal from them?" Raki returned back addressing his blood covered clothes and bloodied knuckles.

"So why are you still here?" The cloaked man questioned with peaked interest.

"I am looking for a claymore. Clare, number forty-seven." Raki stated lowering his hands. The claymore shot a quick glance over at the cloaked man as if seeking permission to do something. The man raised his hand almost as if to assure her. Raki was becoming a little concerned, he may have overstepped with his questions.

"I am Ermita and this is Raftela number ten." Ermita bowed ever so slightly as he introduced himself. "I know of this Clare you are searching for, but it has been many years since I have seen her, why are you looking for her?"

"She is a dear friend, I owe her my life. If it takes a lifetime of searching I will do so to find her." Raki said sternly.

"An absolute resolve, you must-." Ermita's words were cut short by a nearly blinding light just behind Raki. Raki quickly turned to witness whatever it was himself.

Very far away an enormous blue pillar of light raced to the heavens illuminating the entire island. Raki looked to his left to the northern mountain range and knew for certain that the light was coming from the heart of the island, Rabona. His heart raced as he remembered seeing this before, seven years ago in Pieta he saw that same light.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey everyone, I got this done faster than I expected. Thank you everyone again for reading my story so far and I hope I can continue doing my best and raising the bar with every chapter, I know that is a tall order but I'm going to give it my best shot. I have some really BIG events that will be taking place hopefully in the next chapter or two, some people will hate it and others may love what I'm going to do with the story pretty soon. Oh and special thanks to Ann E. Casap for looking over this. **

Progressive Sickness

Time is against everyone, it is an ally to no one and shows no prejudice to all who fall under its limits. Living or man-made makes no difference to time, it will destroy all. Such is the case for the fort established at the foothills of the northern mountain range. Time had taken its toll on it, nature had broken down all of its once mighty walls and destroyed its impenetrable gates. All that remained was a shell of its former glory. Once occupied by mighty soldiers and the bravest of leaders, it is now home to nature.

"Do you feel that Dauf?" The petite voice echoed throughout the empty halls of the long abandoned fort.

"Feel what?" The large ogre asked nearly absent of individual thought.

"Someone very powerful just woke up from their slumber…" Riful stated as she causally skipped to the nearest window overlooking the wilderness below. "You see that light Dauf? It means someone wants to play games with us."

* * *

Raki's pupil's dilated back to a normal diameter for the surrounding daylight as the towering beacon of light over Rabona vanished. All three of them stood in the road in complete silence and awe. Raki's eyes cut over to Ermita's to see his reaction but to his surprise he seemed unmoved by the event as he continued to stare at landscape before him. With a slight turn of his head Raki looked over to Raftela who was solely focused on Ermita.

Ermita finally broke the silence as he turned to address Raftela churning the dirt underneath his boot as he did. "This changes things, we are heading to Rabona immediately, I'm sure the organization will understand." Raftela nodded in acknowledgement.

"I'm going as well, I don't need to travel with if you disagree, but I know that Clare is somehow involved with whatever is going on in Rabona." Raki stated sternly as he turned to gather his gear.

"What makes you so sure that it is Clare? I haven't heard of any surviving the battle in Pieta. How do you know she survived?" Ermita asked genuinely.

"I was there seven years ago, I was traveling nearby when the violence broke out." Raki paused as he felt uncomfortable sharing and rehashing all those memories. "Clare and I have a unique history and I care deeply for her. I knew seven years ago that she was Pieta during that battle, and seven years ago I saw that same light emit from the city." Raki stopped packing his belongings as a bead of bloody sweat fell from his brow. "When I witnessed that power something inside me knew it was Clare. I remember that feeling, it was a terrible feeling, and now as we stood here watching that light it was…it was the same."

"I have no doubt of your conviction, but as you have said it has been so long and she would have made contact with any one of us within the organization long ago if she survived." Ermita explained.

"You are not the first to think so, and you will not be the last to think I am on a fool's errand." Raki shot back with hate.

"I am sorry." Ermita apologized lowering his gaze. "I do not wish to sow seeds of doubt within you. We all must hold onto hope." Raftela looked over to Ermita as if to usher their moving along. It was true, any time they spent standing about was time lost.

Ermita let out a cloak-muffled chuckle as he thought about it. "Why don't you do just that?" Raki tilted his head unsure of the subject. "Yes. Please accompany us to Rabona, I would like to know about you and Clare. I remember her, I wasn't directly involved with her training, that is to say I only knew of her."

"Alright! Let's go!" A small glow of joy emitted from Raki's face as he stood ready to move.

"Perhaps you would like to wash up or at least change your attire before we set out?" Ermita stated as delicately as he could, once again looking at his bloodied clothes.

"We don't have time to waste, I will change once we have closed our gap with Rabona." Raki gestured as he already began his march down the highway leaving the other two in tow.

"Very well," Ermita conceded as he caught up to Raki. "But I insist you walk downwind of me, you smell of the dead." Out of embarrassment Raki slowly slid behind Ermita grabbing the collar of his shirt just to be sure. Ermita was right, blood and brains have a very unique and uncomfortable odor.

* * *

A light and refreshing breeze dipped and wove its way around the many buildings of Rabona, lifting everyone's sprit as they all banded together searching and repairing their broken city. It swung low kicking dust to the heavens with its passing. It veered right and left hugging any tight corners as it made its way through the city. It flew by the many arches of the cathedral speeding up as it twisted and turned finally arriving at another open window. Its great speed plummeted as it met and made the drapes dance from its wake.

"What exactly happened?" Helen asked as she stood by the window, her hair swaying to and fro from the breeze.

"She lost control." Deneve stated plainly.

"I can see that," Helen shot back quickly. "But why did this happen. I mean we have spent the last seven years mastering control over ourselves and our yoki. How could she just lose it, and why?" Helen's voice continued to elevate as she raged.

"I don't know," Deneve said softly as she knelt down next to Clare's unconscious body. "We need to let her rest, perhaps yesterday's battle took more toll on her than we thought." Deneve carefully placed her hand above Clare's breast, feeling the steady rhythm of heart move up and down with every breath.

Satisfied that she was docile again Deneve looked across the room at the other claymore lying in the bed, also unconscious. She had been injured worse before, but not by a friend. Yuma's torso was wrapped in bandages and next to her bed was a basket full of bloody rags ready to be washed and reused. Her breathing was shallow as her body was slowly closing the puncture wound in her side that drilled all the way to her lungs.

"How about Yuma?" Deneve asked as she stood to her feet.

"Physically, she will be able to recover by the end of the day, but did you hear some of the shit she was saying after Clare finally collapsed?" Helen asked pointedly.

"Yes, I don't know what to make of it…. I have never seen her so freighted before." Deneve's eyes began to well ever so slightly before she shut them completely, stemming their flow. "Yuma is always doubting herself, but today she did it right." Deneve glanced at Helen before looking back at Yuma's resting body with pride.

Miria and Tabitha quietly entered the infirmary leaning against the door frame watching their two sisters slowly recover. Deneve carefully sheathed her blade trying not to wake either of them up. "I don't think that will be necessary anymore." Miria stated as Deneve nodded in agreement. It was hard to raise your blade to your sister with the intent to kill, but Clare was becoming dangerous and as much as Deneve was reluctant to guard Clare from herself she had the strongest resolve to do what would be necessary if it ever came to that.

"Any ideas Miria?" Helen asked forwardly.

Miria regretfully shrugged her shoulders as she let out a deep sigh. "I don't have anything either, I thought she had this side of her under control." Miria walked over to Clare's resting body looking at her peaceful face, watching her carefully. "Something made her lose control, Helen did she mention anything to you. I heard her wake you up yesterday morning, she seemed afraid."

"I dunno," Helen gritted her teeth as she tried to recall anything before Clare went berserk. "She said she had a terrible nightmare….didn't mention about what though."

Helen was about to go on another speculation of the reason why Clare went insane, but before she could get the thought to fully form all her sweat glands went into overdrive. The piercing high pitch scream of Yuma's voice sheared across the room snapping everyone's head towards her direction.

"Yuma!" Helen raced over to her panicked friend trying to calm her as she continued to scream out in unfiltered fear. "Yuma it's okay I'm here." Helen tried to reassure her. Yuma back pedaled with her hands and feet until her back pressed tightly against the bed frame. Her screaming had stopped as her mouth was completely dry. Her eyes shot left and right to Miria then to Clare and back to Miria again. She was terrified as her lips quivered and her entire frame shook, rattling the bed as fear continued to grip her soul.

Deneve grabbed one of Yuma's flailing arms but was shocked to notice that she was not batting them away, she was not trying to distance herself from them like some sort of crazy deranged person. She was throwing her arms left and right trying to grab onto one of them. She was searching for someone to save her, to shelter her from what could've only been Clare. Yuma quickly snatched Deneve's arm pulling her onto the bed beside her and gripping Deneve's clothes tightly.

"Yuma calm down!" Deneve ordered as Yuma continued to shake and cower. Her eyes were locked on Clare. Cynthia jumped on the bed placing herself right in front of Yuma's vision blocking out Clare. Her hands gently stroked Yuma's head as she embraced her tightly desperately trying to calm her.

"I saw them….I saw them….I….saw…." Yuma repeated rhythmically as she bobbed back and forth still shaking from fear. Mria's eyebrows shot up as Yuma's words sounded very familiar.

"Who did you see?" Miria asked sternly as she rushed over, pushing Cynthia aside. Miria tried to follow Yuma's eyes as their gaze raced all around the room. "Who did you see!?" Miria raised her voice as she grabbed hold of Yuma demanding an answer from her frightened sister.

"I…..saw…" Yuma swallowed hard as she continued to tremble. "I saw….three….I saw three." She nodded her head over and over again hoping the terror would stop if she simply gave up everything she knew. Tears began to flow down her face and her mouth opened wide but no cries escaped her lips as she continued to be consumed by fear.

"Who? Which three? Three what?" Miria continued to press harder with her questions as she tightly squeezed Yuma's right arm. "Tell me Yuma! What did you see!?" The sheets grew darker between Yuma's legs as Miria continued to hound her for answers. "Who did you see!?" Miria was now yelling as a rage began to overtake her body. Helen was becoming concerned as she witnessed Miria's anger, it was as if she was treating Yuma as some sort of enemy, interrogating her. "DAMN IT YUMA TELL ME!" Miria screamed, her right hand shot back and gripped the hilt of her claymore, ready to strike.

"Miria!" Helen yelled as she tried to arrest Miria's forceful grip on Yuma. "She doesn't need this right now!" The anger slowly began to fade away from Miria's face as she realized the torment she was causing. She slowly let her go feeling terrible of her actions. Yuma's eyes closed as silence enveloped the room, all of them silently taking in all that had transpired.

"I….saw…Teresa….." Yuma finally gathered the strength to utter the words. "…and a little…..brown haired girl…" Yuma paused as her lips began to quiver again. "And then…I saw her….she….she was….awake…." Everyone slowly turned around to see Clare still lying unconscious. They were all silent just staring at her as if she was some predator.

* * *

Clare watched the snow dance and fall to the ground in Pieta. She was always mystified by its presence. It just seemed to make the entire world so much more serene. It was as if all the noise in the world ceased and she could just stand there and enjoy the silence. But as she traced the snowflakes fall she could see them gently land on the broken rooftops and destroyed buildings of the northern city.

It was here that she remembered when her life had made another change. This was the beginning and the end of a life she both loved and hated. Clare loved all of her sisters, each and every one of them, but she hated what they and she herself had become. On those days when the fighting had just begun, Clare remembered thinking of what she and this battle really were about. It was not good versus evil, or light against the darkness. It was, and has always been a genocidal civil war. There were no sides to the fighting, they were fighting their own, themselves, more than not. Each kill or victory did save human lives, but each kill was causality on their side which they had no part in choosing.

A giant crash halted Clare's thoughts. Debris and clouds of dust shot up into the sky with each impact. Clare craned her neck around one of the many abandoned street corners of the city. Another impact quaked the village and now Clare's pace accelerated to a sprint as she rushed to investigate the cause of the tremors. Shops zipped by her as she neared the town center. Snow erupted to either side of Clare's steps as her speed reached its peak leaving a rush of wind in her wake.

She suddenly rounded another corner street to see the large open town center. Impact craters scarred the ground and punched through every building that surrounded the town square. The air hissed as she felt two distinct beings rush by her with incredible speed. Her eyes attempted to track them but they changed direction again. They zipped from the rooftops to the ground and back to the air once again. Clare could hardly see anything in the dark snow filled skies. She had to follow their movements with each impact. The sound of steel crashing and shearing against steel was hard to mistake. Whoever these two were they were locked in a death match as they continued to dash all around the square creating chaos.

It was the familiar whimper that made Clare's heart tear as she stood watching the battle before her. Just on the other side of the square sat a small child. Her arms wrapped around her knees as she sat crying on the steps leading up to the church that overlooked the square before her. Clare rushed across the battle field dodging high and low as the two adversaries dashed around her. Sparks illuminated the night as the two clashed sword for sword trading blows one after another. It was as if Clare was in the middle of a violent cyclone. Winds furiously wrapped around her as the two continued to blitz by her. Clare breathed a deep sigh of relief as she finally sprinted past the carnage to the other side of the frozen square. The little girl continued to whimper and cry as Clare carefully approached trying her best not to scare the child.

It only took three steps for Clare to recognize herself. The child's brown hair was covered with snowflakes that continued to build, not melting, no warmth. She cautiously sat next to the child extending her arm around the sad girl hoping to offer her both comfort and warmth. She flinched ever so slightly from Clare's embrace before she raised her head and met her green eyes with Clare's own silver set.

"She says I can't come back." The girl whimpered as she closed her teary eyes again letting her head sag with dreadfulness.

"Who said you can't?" Clare asked delicately. The girl simply raised a terrified arm and pointed to the two adversaries still slashing away at each other.

An enormous crash and a brilliant flash of sparks stole Clare attention. The battle before her was becoming more intense as their speed increased. Clare looked back towards the girl to find that she was gone, not even a trace of where she sat could be found. Clare searched with her hands on the ground hoping she wasn't losing her mind, but as she continued to search the ground long strands of brown hair fell in front of her face obstructing her vision. Her breathing stopped and chills ran down her spine as her trembling hands grabbed the long brown hair and slowly traced it to her own head.

"No! Please No!" Clare screamed in fear hoping it wasn't true but as her voice reached her ears she recognized it as one she possessed as a child.

Suddenly the two fighters halted their duel as if obeying Clare's wishes. There, in front of her on one side stood Teresa, bloodied, bruised, and near beaten. Her breathing was heavy and erratic as she leaned against her claymore using it as a crutch. Knicks and cuts covered her body and armor, it was clear that she was fighting for her life.

It wasn't difficult to discern who Teresa was fighting, her eyes glowed yellow, and her face was too familiar to be mistaken. It was Clare's other half. Her Yoma side had fully awakened, revealing the ugly monster that she was deep inside.

"Don't stop." Teresa said still panting from exhaustion as her enemy's sword came crashing against Teresa's own resuming their duel.

* * *

Alyssa saw the beam of light vanish over the horizon as she continued her march along the highway. She thought about abandoning her task and heading over to Rabona to see what had transpired but her discipline made sure to keep her thoughts in check. Using some quick arithmetic she estimated her location. She swore under her breath as she realized the next ten miles were thick with bandits who would undoubtedly slow her progress down.

A less traveled road winded to the northeast, branching off the main highway. She remembered some of her comrades telling her about a secondary road heading in this direction. An old road used by the guard many years before as a transport line. It was unused due to its restricted width and dangerous path along cliff sides high enough to ensure no human would survive. Alyssa reasoned that she could fair pretty well against odds that would be uncomfortable for normal humans.

The steep grade of the highway began to even out as Alyssa marched on. She was excited as she could see the valley below and knew she was gaining ground. She estimated that she would gain at least half a day's time if she kept her pace up.

An uneasy feeling settled in her gut as she listened carefully to everything around her. The birds had stopped singing, and in fact she couldn't hear any creatures around at all. The road became hard to follow which Alyssa expected and foliage slowed her pace. She was having second thoughts about her new route, and her fears were confirmed as she saw an old abandoned fort just ahead.


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: Hey everyone, sorry for the extended delay. I am continuing to put as much time into this as I am able, but again it may be another month before I can get things rolling. I do have outlines for the next couple of chapters but that is about all I have. I have had some request that I need to advance the story a little more in each chapter, so just bear with me with because the next two entries will do just that. I'm trying something different here, I have a series of flashbacks as well as story telling within this chapter, hopefully I did it right and it is not utterly confusing. **

Home Sweet Home

The steady and progressive rhythm of their march kept Raki's determination to press forward all the stronger. But as they continued their journey well into the next day his limitations had caught up to him. Dehydration was setting in and he noticed that the simple task of walking in a straight line was becoming a daunting feat. Ermita listened to the rhythm of their march as well and without looking noticed Raki's steps were becoming erratic.

"We shall stop here." Ermita stated softly neither commanding nor asking.

"No, we need to keep going." Raki protested with what little strength he had left.

"You would sooner collapse than make it another mile in your condition." Ermita argued back as he took a seat against one of the many trees that lined the highway.

Raki gave in to what his body was telling him, he needed to stop now before he killed himself. With a couple of sluggish and exhausted motions Raki crashed to the ground slumping against a tree just opposite of Ermita. Raftela decided not to sit as she stood leaning against a nearby tree as well. She did lower her guard though as Raki watched her plant the head of her claymore deep into the earth. Raki figured either she trusted him a little more or that she considered him no threat in his current state, he didn't care one way or the other.

"Raki, tell me about yourself, where are you from?" Ermita asked seemingly from nowhere.

Raki hesitated for a moment, his gaze went left and right slowly as if someone was listening in, unsure to reveal his secrets. "There's not much to me," Raki stated plainly, his voice nearly gone from exhaustion.

Ermita reached into his cloak and fashioned a wine skin. Raki lifted a curious eyebrow as Ermita tossed the vessel in the air giving Raki plenty of time to catch it.

"No, it's just water. I myself don't consume." Ermita assured Raki. Still unsure he carefully uncapped the skin and was quickly relieved to notice the absence of alcohol. As he tipped back and took a swig Raki understood all those all sayings about water being a life giving substance. Almost instantly he could feel it cooling him and restoring his strength slowly. Like an elixir he could feel life reentering his body.

"Thank you," Raki said as he tossed the skin back to Ermita who was happy to see Raki in good spirits. "Doga….I grew up there many years ago. Have you ever made your way there during your travels?" Raki questioned. Ermita simply shook his head ushering Raki to continue. "It was there a little over seven years ago that I met Clare in Doga…It was also the day that I lost everything." Raki paused for a moment, his shoulders sank as if a burden had been placed upon them.

"If you prefer not…" Ermita broke the silence noticing the obvious pain it was causing.

"No…You are actually the first person outside of one or two others that I have told this to. I need to rid myself of this." Raki assured as he did not raise his eyes to address Ermita directly. "I loved my family…I didn't know it then but the more days I see, the more grateful I am for the family that I did have. They loved me with all their heart and I have journeyed around and seen so many without that. I've seen children neglected by their parents and hate driving families apart." Raki chuckled lightly as he recalled his own family. "My brother Zaki was such an ass," a smile grew on Raki's face as he continued to delve into his memories. "We would get into so much trouble as kids you know…He would always try to blame it on me, always looking to get me in trouble. Of course we had our fights, I mean who doesn't…luckily they were usually small matters like who's turn it was to sweep the porch or something like that."

Raki stopped again as his thoughts and memories raced forward to the last day he saw his family. "You know what haunts me most about those days?" Ermita remained silent as he listened carefully. "I spent many nights, and still do, thinking about how my brother met his end. I try my best not to think of it…I just wish I could have been there to save him or at least do something about it." Raki reached towards the ground grabbing a couple of pebbles squeezing them tightly in his hands. "The worst part of it is I couldn't tell the difference." His voice began to grow darker with rage. "The Zaki that I knew on the day I met Clare was not Zaki, I was talking to a God damn monster and I couldn't tell the damn difference….What kind of brother does that make me!" Raki yelled throwing the pebbles against a nearby tree making them ricochet in every direction as they crashed upon its bark. "My brother was dead and torn to pieces and yet there I was completely oblivious that I was talking to the one who murdered him….it is a fucked up trick to play on someone." Ermita silently nodded in agreement before another thought crossed his mind.

"You said you needed to rid yourself of this? Why me, why are you telling me this…I don't intend to sound ungrateful, but it seems that those memories have been pent up in regret for a long time." Ermita asked genuinely concerned for Raki's mental stability.

"To be honest I'm not sure why I told you this." Raki drew a deep sigh. "I guess I trust you…as odd as that sounds."

"Any other good memories of home still left?" Ermita asked cautiously.

"Yeah… I remember the ashes." Raki raised his head looking directly at his inquisitor. "Last winter I found myself traveling near Doga. Everything within in me was screaming to turn around and walk away from that place, to leave it as a distant memory."

"You are lucky, I never had such a place, when I was young we were always moving from town to town scraping up anything that we could. All the villagers' eyes looking at us in disgust as if some plaque had entered their town." Ermita reflected as the thought of a home played out in his mind.

"It's true, all my fond memories of my family resided there, and I suppose that's why I couldn't just pass up the opportunity." Raki sternly rubbed the back of his neck as he recalled that cold winter night. "The day was nearly over as I reached the outer farms that bordered the town. There wasn't much of a welcome party, which I was thankful for. Most everyone had retired for the day. The cold began to grow as the sun finally set completely below the horizon." Raki began twiddling a stick he had found on the ground. "I could see the many tracks everyone had made on the main street throughout the day. It reminded me of playing in the mud with my brother after a rain. Anyway, I eventually made my way to our house…I wasn't surprised by what I saw. Nothing had been done as I noticed that our home was now condemned." Raki violently broke the twig in between his fingers creating a quick snap. "I stood in front of the house unable to move, I was scared. It was like I was looking into a mirror, time had stopped for both me and my home, nothing had changed inside of us."

_Raki reached to the very far corners of his memory and pulled forth all the regret that he held onto so closely. He stood before his home, his center, his world. It was crippling to see just how unchanged everything in the town was. He was told by his parents that time heals all wounds, but that was not so convincing at the moment. Years had marched on since he had traveled near Doga and yet all the hell he experienced here was as fresh as the day he last left it. _

"So, after what seemed like hours I gathered the courage to walk inside, the door had been locked but the wooden frame was long rotted away making it easy to simply push open. I saw small piles of snow and moonlight where the roof had begun to collapse." Raki paused as he was obviously completely lost in his memories.

"Please continue." Ermita stated bringing Raki back to the present. Raki flinched ever so slightly as his shoulders sank again.

"I saw that not all life had stopped, a family of foxes had taken up residence in my home and seemed threatened by me…I didn't care much. I looked around and it seemed as if the day they kicked me out of the village they locked up our home. Everything was how I last remembered it; half of the dishes were out ready for dinner. They were set in the same order, I always sat on the side closest to the fireplace." Raki continued to dive deeper into all that he had lost that day.

"I remember having to carefully navigate up the stairs as they had all but rotted away, but I somehow managed to get up them. I finally got up to the second floor and I could still see the blood stained wood. It was difficult to notice in the low light but I knew what I was looking for. They hadn't even bothered to clean up the butchery that took place upon my family. The planks were stained both a deep purple that was nearly black and a red that was just as dark." Raki drew in a deep breath trying his best to keep his composure. "Every place in my house and everything within it had a memory, and they all came barreling towards me in a continuous and unrelenting barrage. I was getting sick so I finally gathered the strength to do what I had come for and then I quickly got out of there."

Raki's gaze looked up to the skies as if tracing the movement of something soaring up above. "It took only a short moment for the local guards stationed in Doga to come rushing over to me as I stood before my home. One of them called out, an older guard, who was around at the time I still lived there. He told me to turn around slowly and I did as he said. He immediately recognized me and instructed the other guard to let me be. He must've took pity on me and realized there was no danger of it spreading, our house stood far enough away from the others." Raki stood to his feet, eyes closed, hands out stretched to either side. "I remember the warmth of the fire, standing there before its great fall, its final moment**." **

_The blaze quickly engulfed the entire house, illuminating everything around it. The flames danced higher and higher clearing well above the other homes. Raki stood mesmerized by its destruction, his jaw dropped in awe as the main supports gave way flattening the house. Thousands of tiny embers shot out in every direction before floating skyward and disappearing into the cold winter sky._

"The ashes began to fall, and with each one landing on me, a memory…gone. It burned down faster than I had imagined, as if it had been preparing itself for this moment for a long time." Raki's hands slowly dropped to his sides and then he returned his sight to Ermita. "The locals didn't bother to say anything to me as the last of the flames were dying out. Many of them stayed in their house looking at me through windows, it was obvious they were troubled by my presence. Anyway, I took a moment to walk among the charred remains of all that was left of my childhood. Anything that wasn't completely destroyed by the fire I created, I took care of personally until nothing remained."

"That seems like it was very difficult, I am not sure if I could've done the same." Ermita added.

"The guard eventually came back after the fire was all but extinguished. He apologized for everything that befell my family those many years ago. I know he was trying to help me as best he could, but my anger had forced any kindness out of my heart." Raki walked over to a small opening on the side of the highway where the ground was flat and void of roots. "He took me on a short walk to the north side of the village, the oldest part of the town. I remember walking by that way many times before, holding my breath as I passed by...superstition I guess."  
Raki's knees collapsed as his body came crashing to the ground with a low thud. It had happened the exact same way as he arrived at their final resting place many months ago. The guard had escorted him to the snowy graveyard of Doga. Raki passed the many neatly arranged headstones recognizing many from the years before tragedy wrecked his life.

_His hands began to tremble as he spotted the newer and unfamiliar headstones near the end of the row. The guard's snow muffled footsteps had stopped short allowing Raki to continue the last stretch on his own. Snow had piled high against the grave markers covering the names of their occupants. It was tragically obvious where his family rested, two larger headstones guarded a much shorter one standing between them.__  
__Raki knelt before his family as tears flowed down his cold and grief stricken face. Everything he ever was and that had ever really mattered to him was buried six feet underneath him. As he looked at what remained of his family Raki remembered that kid he used to be. He remembered the embrace of his mother and the confident words of his father. Regret drowned his soul as he swore under his breath. He would've given anything to change what had happened that day, even if it meant trading places with the three who rest before him. None of that could change though, he knew this, but accepting it is a much more difficult and haunting task._

"Before that day I had never truly grieved the passing of my family. All those years I had been putting it aside, thinking that if I ignored it long enough it would simply fade away." Raki swallowed hard trying his best to suppress his sorrow. "Even now it is still painful to talk about." He slowly stood to his feet looking east down the highway towards their destination. "Whatever good, whatever…piece of me that was…that was decent. Everything that tied me to my family…. that brought me into this….this shitty world was lying there right before me under those graves!" Raki's voice began to rise with his rage. "I didn't want to go down this path!" The young man's hands balled up into tight fists as hate and regret consumed him. "I have been fumbling aimlessly through this life for the last seven years regretting everyday of it!" Raki felt all that hate from his heart surge painfully up to his mind. He instinctively placed his hands on either side of his throbbing brain screaming in pain. "I want it all to stop!" Raki's head felt as if it was going to burst from the inside out as he continued to clinch his head. "God damn it make it stop!"

Ermita took one cautious step back before he heard Raftlea fashion her claymore. Ermita quickly drew his hand back commanding her to stay put. Raki continued to lament before them, still consumed with rage. "I just wanted to live! …I just wanted to…!" The young man turned in every direction feverishly searching for something. "I just want this to be taken from me! Please just let it pass from ME!" Unable to find relief from his pain Raki slung his broken sword from his shoulders sending it flying towards Ermita. The cloaked man fearfully dodged the swords flight, his eyes wide with panic. "My life was stolen from me! I HATE THIS!" Raki's anger violently exploded, he tightly gripped his chest placing his furious hands over his heart, trying to tear himself apart. "I FUCKING HATE THIS!" Raki shouted with all that was within him.

Both Ermita and Raftela looked at the broken, rage filled man before them. His malevolent and exhausted frame folded onto his knees. His teary blood soaked face tilted back, skyward. The other two finally breathed a sigh of relief noticing the uncomfortable calm that descended upon Raki. It was different this time, Raki could not feel the warmth of the sun upon his face. It had turned into a painful and disgusting heat that scorched his face. He slowly brought his head forward looking at the other two travelers.

"I learned something on that day, we are all drawn back home no matter how terrible the memories or agonizing the act may be. It seems like the old saying is true," Raki chuckled lightly remembering the many times his mother had told him that proverb. "Home is where the heart is…and on that day I burned it to the ground..."

The fragile silence held sway over the three of them for a moment. It was only slightly disturbed as Ermita slowly and confidently walked over to distraught man on his knees in the middle of the highway. He gently came to a stop right next to Raki. Ermita continued to look eastward along the road gently placing his right hand on top of Raki's heavy burdened shoulders.

"Easy…" Ermita breathed lowly as he gently squeezed Raki's shoulder. The young man slowly brought his sight up to the cloaked one standing next to him. It reminded him of the many times his father did the same thing after he had lied to him or did some of the stupid things any child does to worry their parents. The warmth of Ermita's hand faded from raki's shoulder. He took a knee next to him extending a helping hand out to the troubled kid. His eyes met Ermita's own as the tiniest of smiles began to take shape along his face.

"I know this place," Ermita stated pulling Raki up to his feet again. Without pause Ermita quickly took down the road excited as a child. After only a small sprint he stopped just around a sharp turn in the road. The dense forest rapidly faded giving way to open fields and low rolling hills. Before him was a clear and open path leading to the limestone cityscape of Rabona.

"Very dramatic." Raki remarked as he finally caught up with the cloaked man looking towards the holy city.

"They call it the path to heaven, supposed to inspire hope as you travel to this holy city of light." Ermita explained as the group started their walk again.

"We'll see if that name holds up, Clare I hope you are..." Raki stated under his breath.

"I have no doubt that Clare is in Rabona waiting for you." Ermita assured.

"How can you be so certain?" Raki questioned.

"You said so yourself, with an unshakeable confidence I might add." Ermita stated brightly as he noticed another smile glow across Raki's face. "Raftela here is a very gifted warrior, she is able to sense a claymore's yoki from great distances and if Clare is as capable as you say she is then her yoki aura wouldn't be hard to miss." Ermita explained as he looked over at the number ten claymore.

"That must be a hard deal being number ten." Raki said as he looked over his shoulder at the claymore trailing behind him. "I know many within the organization hold the single digit warriors in very high respects, and to be so close has got to be at the very least annoying." The claymore didn't even bother with a response knowing full well her place and purpose.

"Raftela has a very unique position within in the ranks of her comrades." The cloaked man explained. "She is able to search deep within someone and peer into their very soul. She is often able to help new and upcoming warriors cope with their new responsibilities and conquer the demons within each of them."

"You mean their Yoma half, she helps others learn to control it?" Raki questioned as he again looked back at Raftela following close behind them.

"Yes, But the work she does is very delicate," Ermita paused unsure of how to explain. "Sometimes things can go wrong. She is dealing with intense feelings and emotions coupled with the untold and quite savage power of the Yoma. Obviously you can see that this work takes great care because Raftela can inadvertently conjure up demons within her comrades. It is as I said a very delicate process."

"Has something like this happened before?" Raki questioned with another quick glance towards Raftela.

"It has…" Ermita replied regretfully. "Come on, Rabona is only a short walk away."

* * *

The heavy wooden door slammed shut as Helen furiously shoved Miria and Deneve into the prayer room. "What the hell was that all about?"

"I don't know but I am seriously reconsidering our safety around Clare." Deneve stated plainly.

"How can you say that, she is most of the reason why we are still standing here today?" Helen shot back sternly.

"I haven't forgotten Helen, but look at what is happening here. She nearly killed Yuma…I am not sure if or when that may happen again. She could hurt anyone of us or herself for that matter." Deneve rationalized logically as Helen simply rolled her eyes in disagreement.

"Miria, you know something and I want to know what. You scared the shit out of Yuma and me no less." Helen redirected to the captain who had removed herself from Deneve her Helen's bickering.

Miria reluctantly stepped closer knowing full well Helen would not let this go unanswered. "Yuma said she saw three within Clare." Miria paused as she tried to piece it together within her mind. "I know the child must have been Clare, the second Yuma obviously already identified as Teresa. The third is what I was afraid of…" The former number six quickly looked around to be sure no one was eavesdropping. "Alright, we know that Clare is a quarter yoma. Within her are the remains of Teresa, so in essences Clare does not have a yoma side. She simply inherited Teresa's yoma half."

"I don't understand what you are getting at, if Clare is only a quarter yoma then she should have more control over it." Deneve interrupted.

"I don't believe it is a measure of the quantity of yoma we possess whether it be and eighth or smaller, it makes no difference. I believe it is simply the measure of the two souls that are within each of us. They are constantly in conflict with one another, one side human and the other yoma, fighting for control over one body. Teresa was a warrior of immeasurable power, able to best all of her comrades with easy grace, and now that power lies within Clare. Teresa was able to have complete control of her Yoma side not even releasing a tenth of her powers. So the question is can Clare do the same with such immense power?" Miria stated grimly.

"We have already seen Clare awaken and she was able to do so partially and then revert back to her human form….I'm sorry Miria I don't see what you are getting at." Helen objected hotly.

"I'm sorry I can't explain it, but something in my gut is telling me that we have yet to see the true side of Clare. I believe that what we saw seven years ago was just Teresa's Yoma half channeled through Clare's hate. If she were to completely lose control, I believe that we would have the unpleasant encounter with Teresa's unfriendly half."

"Well that's just great," Helen stated sarcastically, the smallest trace of fear evident within her tone. "What time is it?"

"Still morning, why does that matter?" Deneve replied with peaked interest.

"Shit, it's going to be tough to find some drinks to drown this all away." Helen stated wasting no time to head out on her booze fueled defense mechanism.

She hadn't made it a few steps out of the cathedral's main entrance before she spotted a familiar silhouette walking from the west gate of the city. Helen's mouth evaporated into a dry wasteland as she swallowed hard. A deluge of terrible thoughts cascaded through her mind as she stood their frozen with fearful curiosity. It was easy to spot the cloaked wrapped individual making his way through the crowded streets.


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note: Hey everyone, sorry for the long delay. Well...here goes nothing, hope you enjoy it and I will try get the second half of this two part chapter up as soon as practical.**

Clare

The cool breeze rustled the tall grass around her knees as Clare stood on the hill side observing the beautiful landscape around her. Her hair gently swayed to and fro mimicking the grass below her as she gazed up to a flock of birds making their way hundreds of feet in the skies above. grass hoppers jumped from branch to branch and life seemed to be in perfect balance. A peace that had escaped her for so many years wrapped around her very heart as she drew in a deep revitalizing breath. The pain had vanished and all the hate and evil that had destroyed every piece of joy that occupied her soul was gone. Her thoughts were no longer haunted with regrets and fears of tomorrow.

She didn't know what caused her to turn around, it might have been something she heard, but Clare couldn't be sure. Whether it was a sound or otherwise she immediately wished she hadn't. She remembered every crack and corner of the large boulders that rested around her. She had stood in this exact spot many years ago, she had stood there in that spot for many hours as her world came to a crashing halt. It was that day, that day she wished she had never been born, the day that all her pain and torment began.

Clare softly closed her eyes as they began to well up with tears. A small drop escaped and trickled down her warm cheek. As she reach up to wipe it away she opened her eyes to those two Claymores before her once again. She saw that God damn bitch on her back against the rock. Priscilla's half yoma self cowered in defeat below Teresa lowered and defenseless blade. It was here, right here, this was the moment, this was the event, the time and the place. This is where hate was born out of the rape of charity and love. Where life was unjustly choked away from existence, leaving evil and malice to dominate her.

Clare watched, just as she had before, Priscilla sever the hands of Teresa and then the eventual but quick decapitation of the one she loved. And just like the past, her soul sheared and tore as the low thud of the former number one's head bounced and roll against the fertile grounds of that hill side. Rage consumed her, nothing would give her rest, nothing would end her malevolence until she stole Priscilla's life.

A sharp pain spread throughout her body making Clare feel weak. She could hear those final words, that last wish that Teresa wanted for that child long ago. Normal life was no longer an option for her, there was no way it could have been possible. From the moment she decided to follow her out of that town the little girl she used to be had unknowingly bid farewell to hope.

As her eyes opened she saw Teresa's severed arms extending towards her, and like a puppet unable to control her own body Clare quickly rose to her feet with lightening speed. She could feel the warm blood splash against her cheek and each strand of Teresa's hair brush against her face as she and her sword passed through the person she cared so deeply for. She had murdered the only person she loved, she had become the monster that she hated with every fiber of her being. That day when she let her hate infest her soul Clare had become no different than Priscilla, she had given in to evil.

Clare awoke gasping for air and drenched in sweat. She cursed at her own existence under her breath before sitting upright. A sharp cold fell over her body as a small breeze flew in from the open window overlooking the main street. Clare quickly threw off the damp sheets that covered her body and rushed to the other bed in the room. Across from her was Yuma's unconscious and bandage wrapped body resting peacefully. It didn't take her long to piece together what had happened, she recalled walking out of the cathedral and then the pain in her chest. It was enough to convince her that the monster within had put Yuma in the state she was currently in.

Clare's guts began to twist and turn as she looked at the cut and broken girl lying on the bed. She stood their unable to understand why or how she could do something so hurtful and vile. Yuma's bandages and the sheets surrounding her side were stained crimson from the wound that she had painfully drilled into her. It was a perpetual and escalating disease that she had so naively accepted. She continued to look at the evil and destruction that she gruesomely inflicted upon the people she called her sisters. It was becoming more than she could stomach.

She could feel her heart begin to crack and deteriorate, her breathing became erratic, and control was beginning to slip away from within her. Clare's legs became weak forcing her to lean with both hands on the bed before her. Her breathing quickened in pace and shallowed in depth. The room began to spin as her vision tunneled on the weak and helpless girl in front of her. The silver-eyed warrior was about to lose consciousness just before she felt something.

A warm and calming wave began to travel up her arm, relaxing her muscles and slowing her heart. The shaking within her body ceased as strength returned to her legs. Peace and order rose within her as she stood to her feet once again. Clare slowly turned towards the sun bathed window pulling away from the bed, Yuma's hand still grasping her arm tightly, pulling Clare back to her. She couldn't believe it, after the pain that she put her through and yet still offering so much compassion was a humbling experience for Clare.

She carefully turned around to see the former number forty's eyes still closed and her body still sleeping. A small smile glowed across Clare's face, she was now armed with the strength of her sisters and the assurance that not one of them would give up on her no matter what the circumstances were. She promised herself at that moment that she would reciprocate that strength and hope ten fold. She would protect them all from any enemy, whether it was outside with blades or the monster within herself. She would never let herself or any others harm her sisters again.

* * *

The entrance to the city was a glamorous and daunting sight to behold. The walls were high enough to give even the birds a struggle to topple them. The gates were wide, able to have the largest of soldiers stand at least twenty abreast, allowing ample space for market traffic and the coming and going of visitors. Raki thought it hard to believe that the people of Rabona could even build such a mighty and imposing structure. And as he and his company made their way through the crowded streets he didn't find it so hard to believe anymore. He saw every able body moving about rebuilding and repairing the broken interior of the holy city.

Life was moving forward, unhindered by the destruction that had wrecked it only days before. Grieving and mourning had passed, and the love for those who had been lost would not hold back the spirit of this great city. Raki's mood lifted as he continued to dodge the busy townspeople rushing to cross the streets carrying tools and spare lumber. Despite their hardships and sorrows they decided not to quit, not to give into the evil that befell them. Raki was long convinced that anything good, or pure had been violently removed as God turned his back on this island long ago. But seeing the people of Rabona renewed his hope that maybe one day goodness would return to this lonely place, and he hoped that he could be a part of it.

It reminded him of his own journey to find Clare. He loved her, more than anything on this island, she was the only thing he held onto. And like these people, he would not be stopped, he was going to find her no matter how long it would take, no matter what the cost.

Isley was a friend and a teacher to Raki, he had made him strong not only physically but spiritually as well. He remembered what that strange man had told him many years ago. He recalled tirelessly training everyday with him, hour after hour of conditioning and discipline began to wear him down. One day Raki asked the wise old man who the strongest and most dangerous person he had ever come across was. His reply was unexpected and even harder to believe, but as Raki's gaze traced the streets observing all the determined villagers around him he spotted many of them, they were everywhere. Each one of these people were in fact the most dangerous and most violent.

The ronin, the outcast, they are the most dangerous people. Many of them are bandits and murders, they prey on the weak and kill without thought. They have nothing to lose so no one can force their hand or threaten them enough to stop them. Raki remembered Isley response very well, at first he completely disagreed with the grey haired fool, but now he couldn't agree with him more.

It is not the one who has nothing to lose that is the most dangerous, it is in fact the one with everything to lose. Yes, the person with nothing is unpredictable and violent, but the individual with everything to lose will fight not to lose it. Some of us have an "everything" that we hold onto with all that is within us. We will fight hard to keep it, we love it more than life itself because it is exactly that, it is life. If someone were to take that "everything" from an individual what measure would they go to to get it back. What would they not do to get back that wholeness that it provides for them.

The most powerful people in history have been those individuals with everything to lose. They have united vast peoples, discovered sciences not even known to exist prior to their exploration. But they have also been the tyrants and war mongers who seek out revenge or to conquer and destroy all in their path. Many of them grew up as common people, but they were determined not to let the world change them, but to change their world.

As Raki came reeling back to reality he found himself at an open street corner. To his left and right was the main highway that was dotted with taverns and lodging. His eyes settled on an inn tucked between two markets, and he remembered his stay there with Clare many years ago. His mind triggered a pain along his left shoulder as he recalled carrying that enormous statue around the city for three days. This place had many bad memories for him, almost losing Clare and nearly being killed himself was reason enough. But those were overshadowed by all that he gained from it, he counted it a blessing that he was here. It would have been disastrous if he had not insisted on coming, if he wasn't there to save Clare from herself.

Raki quickly moved those nightmarish thoughts aside as he spotted Raftela entering the inn at the corner of the two streets.

"Why here?" Raki questioned, looking down the street at the massive Cathedral.

"Well, this place has a good view of the area making it easy to find Clare or finding someone who might have seen her," Ermitia replied, keeping pace behind him. "Could you help Raftela secure our lodging for tonight, not all of the locals have warmed up to their presence here."

"Sure." Raki smiled as he began to make his way to old rustic doors leading inside.

Just as Raki had cleared Ermita's line of sight he let a low sigh spotting a blonde Claymore making her way across the street not even a block away from the cathedral, "I'm sorry to put you through this Raki..."

* * *

Helen was in disbelief, she knew that someone in the organization had seen Clare's Yoki erupt, but to be here this soon was surprising. She swore under her breath as she knew she had been spotted, her and the others game of hide and seek was over. No more running, it was time to fight, win or die. With incredible speed Helen fashioned her blade making a semi-circle sweep in front of her carving up the pavement as she lashed out bringing her arms to bear.

"ERMITA!" Helen roared across the distance between them grabbing everyone's attention. It didn't take much for all the villagers to figure out what was about to take place. All the people of Rabona dropped what the had and ran to safety, if there was such a thing for them anymore. Within seconds the highway was clear and void of life save the two who were locked into the death match about to unfold.

"Shit." Deneve breathed as her and Miria both snapped their heads towards the open window. Chills ran down Miria's arms as Helen's war cry reached her ears. In an instant they both grabbed their blades and leaped from the window onto the streets below.

It was surreal to see the vast and busy streets of Rabona now empty and silent. The three Claymores stood far enough away to keep well out of normal striking distance. all were poised to strike, ready to fight and defend each other and the city to their last.

A long pause held sway over the scene as each side examined the other closely. Ermita's pair of eyes scanned the other three sets very carefully, gauging them in strength and speed. The cloaked man shot a glance up to a window on the second floor of the inn adjacent to him. Rafetla stood back far enough not to reveal her position to the others as she nodded in acknowledgment to the old man.

A single bead of sweat trickled down the side of Miria's angry brow as she continued to remain ready for any move he made. "I don't know why you're here Ermita, but I swear I will not hold back," Miria gritted her teeth as she recalled the man he used to be. "That person I once knew is not before me now!"

Ermita slowly and calmly raised both of his hands to his head carefully grabbing the cloth turban which adorned his head. All three Claymores took a defensive flinch back as he pulled the turban down veiling his eyes. "I'm sorry it couldn't be any other way Miria... I didn't want to cause you any more harm."

Miria's heart began to beat erratically as Ermita started a slow and deliberate walk towards the three of them. he didn't speak any words or raise any weapons towards them. It was disarming at first, as if he wasn't trying to fight them at all. Deneve stood ready and tried to play out every technique he could possibly employ as he continued to close the gap between them.

Each step Helen blinked in fearful hesitation, unsure of what to do. Should she strike first and hope that Deneve and Miria could catch his counter. Or remain on the defensive and hope to react in time to his attack. All the possibilities played out before her in a blinding and nearly overwhelming flash. She was losing focus as she grew frustrated from tying to predict his movements.

"Fuck this." Helen bellowed angrily.

With all speed she shot forward placing all her force behind her blade hoping to end the fight before it started. She had calculated only a few paces between them but in a split second the Claymore knew that either she had misstepped or missed him entirely. She spun her right foot counter clockwise and leaned hard to the left, braking entirely against her heels. As the cloud of dust began to clear she could see Ermita right where she had left him but unharmed.

Helen squinted in disgust as Ermita raised his hand gesturing for her to try again. She tried again without thinking, this time she put all of her energy into reading his Yoki as she zipped by making the air hiss in her wake. She again sent dust and debris into the sky as she screeched to a halt. It was as if he wasn't there to begin with. Helen couldn't even track his draping cloak as he maneuvered around her.

"He's fast." Deneve regretfully admitted, Miria nodded in agreement knowing that this was going to be a challenging fight.

"Helen, don't waste your energy so quickly! This is going to be a battle of endurance, remain focused and calm and we can win." Doubt and fear was absent from Miria's barking commands but Deneve could see that it was riddled across her face.

With a single glance all three knew what to do. First, Deneve leaped skyward leaving only a sliver blur behind her. With all her strength she slung one of her blades towards the earth burying it just millimeters away from where Ermita was moving to. Just as she predicted he altered his course to the right towards the buildings restricting her avenue attack. It was a sound tactic but Deneve was already several steps ahead of him.

The short haired Claymore altered her skyward jump into a devastating overhead cleave bringing her blade in front of her edgewise. The smallest glimmer of a smile grew across her face as she accelerated downward ready to split the cloaked man in two. But before her sword got a taste of Ermita's blood he parried with a sidestep leaving it with nothing but gravel to sink its teeth into. The former number fifteen quickly shot her eyes over to Ermita still wearing her diabolical smile as she remained frozen in her posture, blade dug well into the earth.

In an instant Helen's elongated arm zipped right over Deneve's head searching for its target. Again It missed wide not even scratching the man it sought to kill. Deneve quickly released her grip from the first blade and in one fluid motion spun herself around grabbing the well placed blade she had thrown only seconds earlier. Sound barely had enough time to catch up with her sweeping low blade as she exited her spin swiping at Ermita's legs forcing him to leap to the air.

It had all played out perfectly, Miria had the perfect setup to strike him down. He had just started his ascent as Miria blinked with unparalleled speed right at his throat, she had him dead to rights. She knew the old man was good, he could easily dodge their first attacks and guess at their tactics, but his timing and luck had run its course and she would have to send another friend to hell.

Miria's claymore lead the charge dividing the air ahead of it as she rocketed forward. Everything around her faded into her subconscious, she was completely focused, making the slightest corrections to her flight, anticipating his parry. If anyone could slash him down it would surely be her phantom strike.

Another sudden burst of acceleration and a sharp pain erupted from her back side as the Phantom crashed into the building just behind Ermita. The taste of stone, mortar, and blood filled Miria's mouth as she final came to a violent halt inside a living room seated on the second floor. Helen's Jaw dropped in fearful disbelief as the cloaked man gracefully landed from his jump not inches in front of her.

"How are you so fast!?" Helen screamed slashing wildly at her target. Her blade furiously flew left and right slicing nothing but air.

"It is not speed," Ermita explained calmly as the sword continued to dance around him, "It is knowing how and where you will strike before you do."

"That's impossible, all of us have perfected suppressing our Yoki even during battles like this!"

"Who do you think discovered that technique?" Ermita chuckled lightly as he continued to dodge every attack. "I taught many of the best of your kind how to read and anticipate ones Yoki. I do not fight because I do not wish to."

Helen was attacking blindly, swinging more out of rage than anything else. Suddenly a calm but firm touch gripped her forearm arresting her blow mid swing. the Claymore quickly cut her eyes over and traced the hand to Ermita now standing to her right side.

"Please..." He breathed lowly guiding Helen's arm down slowly.

* * *

Clare quickly grabbed her blade hearing the sounds of a fight just outside. Leaping out of the window she could see the emptied streets of Rabona and the lonely figures dashing across the avenue creating a storm of dust and debris. The air rushed by her blocking out all other sounds as she descended towards the ground. Her impact was light, immediately rolling forward with all the remaining inertia from her dive. Without thought Clare bolted towards the battle unfolding a mere distance before her.

The former forty-seven ran with all speed forward, slowly recognizing those involved in the death match. Her heart rate jacked skyward as she saw her sisters slashing fruitlessly at the cloaked figure amongst them. Clare was determined not to let anyone harm her friends ever again, she had to rush to their aid, she couldn't fail them.

Suddenly a sharp and tearing pain slashed up from her spine and ripped into her skull. Clare dropped to her knees, releasing her sword as she doubled over covering her head. The pain surged and pulsated throughout her body before it came rushing back and finally erupted in her mind. She closed her eyes tightly and bit down so hard it felt as if her teeth would shatter like glass between her clenched jaws.

The pain suddenly subsided as she could feel the tall grass gently sway around her bended knees. Her hair danced in front of her eyes as they finally opened and saw that same hillside those many years ago. Three loud metallic clangs, she knew this sound, it had played over and over again in her mind. Those three sharp sounds ripped across her ears and sent a violent rush of hate and vengeance throughout her soul.

There they were, just like before, the same position every time. Just a short distance away they both stood locked in a battle of clashing swords. Clare was not going to fail this time. She was not going to see that bitch steal her life away again. She was going to stop Priscilla, she was going to save the one she loved. This time she was going to kill that stuck up little girl.

Clare gripped the hilt of her blade tightly as she brought it to arms. She had only enough time for one strike, one chance to right the wrong that had cursed her all these years. Priscilla was already on her back against that rock, whimpering like the pathetic excuse of a warrior she was. Clare blasted forward giving new meaning to speed. Everything faded and blurred around her as she focused on that single target, but she was losing time. She watched as Priscilla quickly severed Teresa's hands leaving her in shock. Clare screamed in rage as she exploded forward again leaving sound way behind her. She was almost there, a couple more strides and she could save her friend. One more step, one more swing of her sword and it would all end, all her malice and torment would fade away.

Those golden eyes went wide as they turned and saw Clare rushing in for the killing blow. It was priceless to see the hope in her eyes drain away knowing that she couldn't escape Clare's thirsty blade. And then that satisfying sound of flesh being sliced by steel as she drove her sword home. Clare could feel the warm blood dribble down the grip of her sword onto her hand as she gave it a quick twist.

The purple demons eyes darkened, life was slipping away from her. In one final farewell Clare placed the palm of her hand against the bottom of the blade's hilt and pushed almost the entirety of her sword through the awakened beings abdomen. Clare growled lowly gritting her teeth as Priscilla coughed and spewed forth her blood. It splattered across her face adding to the sensation. Clare had finally done it, she had killed all that was evil, she had saved her friend.

* * *

Raki couldn't believe what was unfolding before him. He recognized each one them as they flew through the air slashing and fighting this strange man. He had seen them seven long years ago. And now, just as before, they were fighting what seemed like an impossible foe. The young man stood in awe as this older and mysterious person made these seasoned Claymore's look like amateurs, much like himself. It seemed like they struck without discipline or precision as if fumbling through the battle.

Out of instinct Raki drew his blade, but as he stood there he wondered why he had. he could not make a difference here. A wave of dread washed over him as he felt as useless as he did seven years ago letting Clare go, running away. He swore under his breath still watching the battle rage on in the streets before him.

Suddenly a window above him burst open crashing against the structure it belonged to arresting Raki's attention. Raftela placed one boot on the frame, leaning well out as if watching the fight herself. But as Raki tracked her gaze he spotted what she was staring at. Not five hundred feet down the street another Claymore came sprinting to aid in the fight. Raki's adrenal glands exploded sending his heart into overdrive as he recognized the pageboy cut hair. He tried at first to yell but as soon as he inhaled his breath was again stolen from him making him stutter in disbelief, "CLARE!"


End file.
